An Unlikely Occurrence
by baneswoman
Summary: In the last book, Claire wondered if anything had happened between Morley and Mrs. Grant. Well, I think something DID, and here it is. One shot. Tell me what you think. ;)


**Soooooo I'll start off by saying I LOVED the last book, and cried because it was over. I'm going to try to do a few pieces of writing here and there. This is just a one shot. By the way, I'm not sure Rachel Caine ever told us Mrs. Grant's first name, so I made one up. I call her Jillian. Idk why. She seems like a Jillian to me XD. Enjoy!**

"All of the homes have electricity again, ma'am, but we're still working on the blacked out windows."

Mrs. Grant looked up from her desk. "That's good news; thank you, James."

The young man nodded and exited the library.

Mrs. Grant sighed and wiped her forehead with the back of her hand. It was exhausting, running a town. But people needed a leader, someone to trust, someone to look to. And that someone was her.

"They should pay me for this," she muttered.

"Are the looks of admiration not enough for you, Jillian?"

Mrs. Grant almost jumped, but she had become quite used to Morley's random appearances and attempts at surprising her. He was standing in front of one of the bookshelves nearby. She leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes for a moment, an action she wasn't sure was such a great idea, but did it anyway.

"I enjoy their 'looks of admiration'," I told him. "But I'm not going to be here for them forever."

"That's why you've got me," Morley replied. He sounded much closer, and Mrs. Grant opened her eyes to see him leaning on the desk, directly beside her. She straightened up. "When your time comes, I'll be here to fully take over."

"Over my dead body," she said, standing. Morley gave her a look and she avoided eye contact, blushing. She realized too late that her response was not effective in the least, for she had simply repeated what he had just said.

"Oh pipe down, will you? I am not the ruthless leader you think me to be." Now Mrs. Grant gave _him_ a look, and it was the vampire's turn to look away. "I have improved since when you first met me, haven't I?"

She could not understand why he looked as if the answer she gave him was actually important to him. Still, it was true; he _had_ changed. However slightly. Instead of barking out commands and putting only his "people" first, he had begun to turn to her for confirmation before following through with plans. And he had learned what a bath was, too. However straggly he looked, he was clean, no dirt visible, and didn't smell.

It was just enough to see that he wasn't a bad looking fellow.

Mrs. Grant's eyes widened at her own thought and she straightened herself before shuffling some things around on her desk, not giving him an answer to the question he had asked.

"Did you know," Morley began, "That you like to organize when you're nervous?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," she said, continuing to replace objects around her. "The desk simply needed tidying up."

"Does my presence unnerve you, Jillian?"

She could hear the smile in his voice, and felt a chill run down her back. It was never a good chill _or_ a bad chill with Morley. Just a chill that did indeed unnerve her.

Morley continued. "You were a very beautiful woman." She turned towards him. He was holding a framed picture of her, from when she was about 30, holding her new born son, Thomas. She was about to rip the picture out of his hands and scold him, when he spoke again. "You are still."

She felt herself blush, her face becoming hot. Mrs. Grant leaned a hip on the desk as well, facing Morley. "Why do you play this game?" she asked him.

"Have you ever thought, dearie," Morley said, straightening up so that he was only half a foot away from her. "That for me it is not a game, but a courtship?" She looked a good eight years older than him, but she knew that his face did not show his real age. She could see the joke in his eyes and shook her head, trying desperately to hold back a smile. She failed. "You see? You enjoy the game, occasionally."

"The game has no purpose," Mrs. Grant said, growing serious once more. "So let it end."

"What if I gave it a purpose?"

She felt that heat in her face again. "If your purpose is to annoy me until I stake you, then yes, let's give it a purpose."

The vampire smiled with straight, human teeth. No fangs. His teeth weren't particularly white, but they weren't nearly as yellow as they appeared when she first encountered him. It was a charming smile, really.

"Don't do that," Mrs. Grant said.

"Do what?" Morley asked, smile widening.

"That," she answered, as he drew closer. "What in the hell are you doing?" She sounded angry, but she didn't pull away.

"Trying something, you incessantly paranoid woman. Now hush."

And for the moment that she did, his lips brushed against hers.

Everything was quiet. The kiss couldn't have lasted longer than five seconds, but it felt like eternity. Mrs. Grant wasn't entirely responsive, but she definitely wasn't ignoring the kiss either. She felt something awaken inside her, something that she hadn't ever expected to feel again-

It ended. Morley pulled away with a triumphant smirk. "That wasn't that bad, now was it? Kissing a vampire."

"Oh is that what you were doing? Couldn't tell. You must not have had a lot of experience." It hadn't exactly felt like that, though.

"Let's try to remember that _you_ weren't the one who pulled away." He placed a finger on her cheek and stroked it before withdrawing his hand. "Did I make you feel like a school girl again, Jillian? You're certainly blushing like one."

Mrs. Grant rolled her eyes. "Are you happy now? Has our little 'game' ended?"

The vampire backed away slowly, his smile never once letting up. "I suppose," he answered. Then he was gone.

Mrs. Grant smiled to herself, not knowing at all what that smile meant or where it came from. Kissing a vampire was no different from kissing a human…was it?

She sat down at her desk once again. Despite Morley's words, Mrs. Grant felt as if the game had only just begun.


End file.
